


what do you truly desire?

by dryadfiona



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, F/M, some subversion of romcom tropes. some unabashed appreciation for less harmful ones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27804481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dryadfiona/pseuds/dryadfiona
Summary: If you'd asked Lucifer six months ago what movie his life would be, he'd have said a porno. If you'd pressed, he'd have said his life is too exciting for any movie to accurately represent. Even now, he won't admit that his life is increasingly becoming a romcom. Never. He might think it, though.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 35
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [never fallen from quite this high](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27410680) by [dryadfiona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dryadfiona/pseuds/dryadfiona). 



Lucifer wakes up to a pillow in the face.

"Mmf," he says, though what he means is, "What the fuck?"

"You're going to be late, brother," Amenadiel says, sounding far too smug, the prick.

Lucifer moves the pillow, glaring up at his brother. "How did you even get _in_ here?"

"You don't have a lock on your elevator," Amenadiel says proudly. Lucifer rolls over in bed and puts another pillow over his head, less because he actually wants to stay asleep and more because spiting his brother has been his favorite pasttime for their entire lives.

Of course, after so long, his brother's pretty good at annoying him right back, and he calls from somewhere slightly further away, "I could always call Remy and have _her_ try and get you up."

Lucifer sits up immediately. "How _dare_ you?"

"You're going to be late for our _sister's_ wedding," Amenadiel says. "Me getting you up is a kindness. What do you think she'll do if you are late?"

Azrael is one of the brightest, most cheerful people Lucifer's ever met, and also quietly terrifying in her few moments of genuine anger, so Lucifer gets out of bed. "Fine. Are you wearing _that_?"

Amenadiel's suit is tailored, at least, but the cut's not quite suited to the broad stretch of his shoulders, and the coloring is a little dull. Actually, _that_ fits him just fine.

Amenadiel rolls his eyes. "Yes, Lucifer, I'm wearing this." 

"Disappointing," Lucifer says. "I thought you'd learned something after all this time here."

"I'm a stay-at-home father, Lucifer, my time in LA is very different than yours. Now, can you--"

"I'll be ready in a few minutes," Lucifer says with a dismissive shake of his hand. "Go downstairs and tend to your offspring. Honestly, for a stay-at-home father, you leave Charlie with Linda quite often."

Amenadiel's face spasms, like he knows Lucifer's just fucking with him but it's still working, but he just takes a deep breath and turns around and leaves. 

True to his word, Lucifer only takes a few dozen minutes to get ready. He knows the coloring of the wedding, and he's had a suit to match since as soon as the invitations were sent out, though a bit less garish than the black-and-pink color scheme would suggest. The compromises between a goth and whatever subculture Candy wishes to fit in this week, he supposes.

Amenadiel looks even more annoyed when the elevator doors open downstairs, but Linda just smiles at him, holding Charlie. Lucifer nods at the child, knowing he won't recognize it for awhile yet, but he always seems to laugh when Lucifer does it, so he does it as many times as he can. 

"We're going to be late, hurry up," Lucifer says as soon as he passes Amenadiel on the way out of Lux, and Lucifer can practically hear his brother's apoplectic expression.

* * *

The wedding looks like some strange genre convention, with the black roses and unnaturally pink flowers and the glitter and the skulls. (Fake, of course.) It'd be terribly tacky if Azrael wasn't practically bouncing with joy in her jet-black dress. 

"I can't wait to see her," his sister says, twirling again, nearly dislodging a ribcage filled with pink flowers at the front of the altar. Lucifer reaches over to steady it. "Can I?"

"I'm fairly certain you're supposed to wait until the bride is walking down the altar," Lucifer says, trying to keep his tone dry even though even he can hear the smile in his voice.

"Isn't it different with two brides?" Azrael says, half-whining. "Besides, that came from arranged marriages, I'm pretty sure, where you weren't supposed to know who you were marrying until it was happening."

"That's absurd," Lucifer says with a roll of his eyes.

"Not really! Arranged marriages are common in a variety of cultures, and Western media portrays it as something pretty different than it is--" Azrael's fiddling with her fingers, twirling her ring--palladium, because Candy may not be rich but she knows her soon-to-be-wife and is more than willing to spoil her and indulge her aesthetic--around and around her finger.

"Azrael," Lucifer says. "It'll be fine."

"Of course it'll be fine," Azrael says with a roll of her eyes, but her shoulders relax, a bit. "I mean, obviously."

Lucifer smiles at her. "I think your maid-of-honor's approaching, she's better at this emotional talk."

Sure enough, Ella's running down the aisle, waving hellos at practically every person she passes and pulling a couple into hugs. She looks lovely in the black dress with the pink accents, which is impressive, considering Lucifer had thought no one could. She practically jumps into Azrael's arms, both of them swaying with the force of it.

"It's your day!" Ella says, smiling wide enough that it has to hurt. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah," Azrael says, smiling a little more shyly than she has in awhile. She used to only ever look like that around Ella. Lucifer thought it meant Ella and Azrael would be here one day, rather than the bubbly Las Vegas singer/club owner. Oh, well, he's been wrong before. As long as his sister's happy, he doesn't really care. "Yeah, I'm excited!"

"Sorry for being late," Ella says, fixing her hair. "I slept in and I didn't want to have to my makeup in the car, and then the Lyft was late, but don't get mad at the driver because he had to get his kids to school, so--"

"It's fine," Azrael says, grinning more genuinely. This is what Lucifer was saying; he's not good at the comfort thing. At any socializing that doesn't lead to an outcome he's _really_ not interested in at this wedding, honestly. This wedding is supposed to be for Azrael, and while he'd done his best to bring someone home after Amenadiel's wedding, they were still--contentious, then. Now, he gets along with most of his family, Uriel and Michael not withstanding, so his goals of being the biggest family disappointment seems less necessary.

Of course, his father had been at Amenadiel's wedding, and isn't here. For as disappointed as Azrael had been, as angry as that makes Lucifer, he can't fully deny that might be playing a factor.

If only his mother had also been unable to make it. She didn't warrant being near the altar--she's far from maid of honor material--but she's sitting up at the front, tall and imposing and smiling like a shark. Like every time Lucifer sees his mother, he's anticipating a veritable array of blind dates, of cooing about Charlie, of targeted comments about how she's not getting any younger, no matter how much the makeup does for her, and does he want her to be alone and uncared for in her old age?

He'd managed to keep himself from saying _yes_ at the last family reunion, busy as he was arguing with Michael. Hopefully he can avoid his mother and his twin tonight; Ella's usually quite good at distracting them long enough for him to escape or just demanding his attention regardless of company. 

His mother looks at him and smiles, and he smiles back, aware the lines of his face are a little too tight for it to seem natural but unable to do anything about it. She frowns, but before she can stand up and drag him over, social norms be damned, the bridal march starts. 

Azrael quietly squeals next to them. Ella's beaming, and even Lucifer finds it hard to maintain his detached look at the sheer excitement on his sister's face. Amenadiel, standing next to him, is openly crying. Lucifer's well-aware it's happy tears, but he still elbows his older brother and mutters, "Keep it together." Amenadiel elbows him back, and Remiel hisses, "Stop."

Candy looks nice in a white dress that's shorter than the majority of wedding dresses and at least thirty times more glittery. The streaks of pink in her hair do complement the wedding colors nicely, and while absolutely none of the event is something Lucifer would ever even let cross the threshold of Lux, he has to admit that all of it works when he sees the happy couple. Azrael takes both of Candy's hands in her own even though Candy's holding the bouquet, and the priest--chosen by their mother, of course--makes a face at it, no one says anything.

Lucifer zones out for most of the official nonsense, but pays attention for the vows. He knows Azrael's almost as well as she does--she'd told him about them constantly, but it is different hearing it from Azrael when she's saying it right to Candy.

"You always saw me for who I really am," Azrael says. Lucifer's behind her, so he can't see her face, but Candy is beaming wide enough that it has to hurt. "And don't get me wrong, I get why people don't! I'm a mortician who's more committed to being goth than most people are to their families--"

A few people in the audience cough, and Candy grins at Azrael's pretty-obvious dig.

"--but you always saw me for me. A dork! A doof! And I like that. I don't like being seen as someone scary. And you never saw me that way."

Ella's full-on crying, maybe, given the way her shoulders are shaking.

Candy leans forward a little, like she wants to skip her vows entirely and kiss Azrael, but says, "Okay, I had something--totally different planned, but--that's the way I feel about you! People look at me and assume they know me, because I'm a blonde or because I didn't go to college or because--you know--"

Candy looks down at her chest, and Lucifer bites back a laugh. 

"But you always respected my opinions, and when I had to deal with all that bullshit with my club years back, you were always--kind. Sweet. And I never want to let that go. Never want to let _you_ go. You're stuck with me."

"Sort of the point of marriage, I'm told," Azrael says, and Candy laughs.

"So. Yeah," Candy says, trailing off. In the front row, Lucifer's mom shifts a little, pursing her lips in a way that suggests displeasure, or at least some smell. Thankfully, Lucifer's pretty sure his sister doesn't notice. 

The priest finishes the spiel, and as soon as he says, _kiss_ , Candy doesn't wait for him to finish and pulls Azrael in. The kiss is perhaps slightly less appropriate for a public place than it should be, and Ella's wolf-whistle is definitely not normal wedding behavior, but the cheer of the crowd drowns out most of it anyway. 

Lucifer, seeing an opportunity, walks up to his sister and says, "I'm happy for you, Azrael."

"Good luck avoiding Mom," Azrael says with a grin.

Lucifer nods and makes a hasty retreat. Hopefully, if he finds a corner by the bar and a few interesting-enough people to talk to, he can hide in the crowd. Azrael and Candy both have a lot of friends, after all, and one or two have to have something to say.

Unfortunately, he can't exactly turn off the charm, and he's almost immediately accosted by a man almost as tall as he is and wearing admittedly-nice dark eyeliner around his eyes.

"Azrael's friend, I presume," Lucifer says, to be polite.

"And who are you?" the man asks, looking him up and down in an obvious once-over. 

"Her brother," he says. "And honestly, normally I'd be all for this, but I'm not looking for someone to take home tonight."

"Oh," the man says with a frown. "Well. Alright, then."

The guy took it nicely, and does seem genuinely disappointed, so Lucifer takes pity and looks around the room. "You should try that man over there. He'd probably be up for more than me."

"Thanks," the guy says, sounding confused, and Lucifer goes to continue his escape, but--

"Lucifer," his mother says, uncomfortably close. Lucifer closes his eyes and internally swears. "How good to see you."

"Mother," he says, turning back with a smile. The man leaves them with a sympathetic look back at him. Lucifer gives a grimace-smile back at him. "It's been awhile."

"Well, you never visit," says his mother. "It's not that far."

"My club's quite busy, I can't fly over to another continent as often as you'd like," Lucifer says.

"It's your old stomping grounds," his mother says.

"I went to Oxford, not downtown London," Lucifer says. "Besides, you fly to LA so often."

"And you don't come to see me when I'm here," his mother says. "But that's not what I'm here to talk about, son."

"It's not?" Lucifer says, apprehensive. He can handle an argument about not visiting enough. "Am I missing something as part of the wedding party?"

"No," his mother says. "I was just wondering if you'd ever found--"

"Lucifer!" Azrael calls from across the room, and Lucifer would take a bullet for her. "Come here!"

"It is her day," Lucifer says apologetically, not feeling sorry at all, and makes his way through the crowd. "Thank you, Azrael."

"Oh, don't worry about it!" Azrael says, beaming. "Anyway, Candy's busy making the rounds, so I _guess_ I can keep you company."

"What about Ella?" Lucifer says. "I know you were hoping to see her more today, since she's so busy with her new job."

"Ugh, yeah," Azrael says with a roll of her eyes. "But she had to go find her date."

"Her _date_?" Lucifer says, delighted and also ready to give someone a shovel speech. "She's been holding out on me."

"I don't _think_ she's that kind of date," Azrael says. "Just wanted company."

"She should have asked me, I could have kept Mother off my back," Lucifer says. "Not that--"

"--I know, she's like a sister to you, you don't have to justify yourself to me. Can't you just find someone for the night so she leaves you alone?"

"I'm here for you, not to find a date," Lucifer says. 

"Oh, I know, just to get Mom to leave you alone," Azrael says.

Lucifer nods. It's not a bad idea, but everyone he knows well enough to ask is his sibling or has a date. Still, if Azrael's as good as giving him permission to find someone today rather than enjoy her company, he'll take it. Anything to get his mother to leave him alone. 

"Still, first--"

* * *

After talking his ear off about mortuary science for twenty minutes, Candy makes her way back, looking flustered but still excited to see her wife. 

"Good luck," Azrael says, eyes catching on someone in the crowd. Almost certainly his mother, though possibly Michael.

Lucifer nods and pushes in the opposite direction of Azrael's gaze. With luck, he'll be able to avoid both of them long enough to find someone--maybe that man from earlier--but he's never been that lucky.

"Lucifer," his mother calls, distant, and he pretends not to hear. There's early 2000s pop music blaring, it's not even unreasonable that he would miss it. 

So he goes to the bar and orders something he knows won't take too long. Maze is fantastic and he doesn't want to be rid of her anytime soon, but he makes an effort to keep on good terms with local caterers and bartenders in case of her moving on. She's been sick of LA for ages, he thinks, though she'd never say as much. The last time he tried to bring up the subject she'd muttered something about not abandoning her roommate with the rent. How absurd. He's never once known Maze to care about that sort of thing, especially for someone else's sake. 

As soon as his drink is in his hand--which is quite quickly, considering the $50 bill he's holding as a tip--he hears his mother call his name again, this time much closer. Harder to get away with ignoring her this time.

He takes the drink and finishes it in one go. The bartender shoots him a somewhat horrified look--it's certainly expensive enough that it's a drink to be savored--but he's damned if he's going to get through this conversation with his mother completely sober, and in the rush to leave this morning, he'd forgotten his flask. 

Lucifer turns and sees her waving him over, hand in a white-knuckle grip on some poor man's shoulder. _At least he's fit_ , he thinks, and heads over, leaving an extra $20 as apology for the poor bar etiquette.

"Yes, Mother?" he says. With her stilettos on, she practically towers over him, reminding him a bit too much of the way it'd felt since childhood.

"I was just talking to this _fascinating_ young man," she says with a grin Lucifer's sure she uses in the courtroom, and he sighs.

As much as he tries to tell his family he does _not_ need help meeting women or meeting men or meeting anyone else, for that matter, they seem convinced his bachelor lifestyle isn't by choice. It's not as though he'd want to settle down; Lux is enough for him. He'd tried the relationship thing, even, with Eve, though they'd disapproved of her. It's just not for him.

Still, the other man doesn't know that, so he makes polite conversation with Raj until he sees an escape--Ella waving him over. He bids the man his goodbyes and pushes his way through the crowd.

Ella's more Azrael's friend than his, it's true, but she's still one of the few outside his family he'd rely on. (For that matter, one of the few even including them.) It's hard not to like the forensic scientist, cheerful and kind, and willing to party with Lucifer and discuss mortuary science with Azrael and even dance with Maze. 

"Miss Lopez," he says.

"Oh, shut up with that proper stuff, just because you went to school in England doesn't mean you need to be, like--formal all the time." 

"Fine," he says. "What did you want?"

"Settle an argument for me," Ella says, and there's a mischievous grin on her face that he recognizes from his visits back home. Usually it would precede some prank, which would give it away so that Lucifer could avoid it, unless it was targeted at any of his other siblings, in which case he resigned himself to taking the fall. 

"You're sweet," Ella had said the first time he did that. Lucifer had been just about ready to drop out of high school and make his own way, spent most of his nights busy with strangers, and had shot her a disbelieving look. "No, really! Only someone sweet would help us with that."

"I just wanted the credit for dying Uriel's hair," he'd said. It's not _technically_ a lie.

"Psh, yeah, right," Ella had said, surprisingly insightful for someone six years younger than him. "Anyway, so back to Geordi--"

"What argument?" Lucifer says rather than get caught up in another discussion.

"So," Ella says. "Do you think those dating shows-- _The Bachelor, America's Most Eligible_ , all that jazz--are they real or fake?"

"Staged," Lucifer says immediately.

"Thank you," says the woman sitting next to Ella. Lucifer hadn't really looked at her, but she's pretty--long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, wearing a relatively conservative dress that Lucifer still lets his eyes linger on.

"What? No!" Ella says. "You can't fake chemistry, it's totally real."

"You can absolutely fake chemistry," Lucifer says. "Or need I remind you of--"

"Ugh, don't," Ella says. "No one needs to know about my embarrassing high school days, okay, it's bad enough that you do."

"Fine, then take it from me," says the woman. "I hated my co-star when I was acting. Like, loathed the guy."

"You're an actress?" Lucifer asks.

The woman shakes her head. "Not anymore. Chloe, by the way."

"Lucifer," he says. Chloe only looks a little surprised at that, and Lucifer raises his expectations for her in response. "What do you do, then?"

"I'm a homicide detective," Chloe says. "Just transferred to Ella's precinct."

"She's my date!" Ella says. "I mean. Not date-date. Just didn't want to show up alone, you know? Azrael would have hounded me about it."

"I understand the feeling," Lucifer mutters.

"Ugh, is your mom bugging you again?" Ella asks.

"Who's your mom?" Chloe asks. Lucifer points over to where his mom is flirting with the man he'd abandoned, who doesn't seem to be half as interested as he was in Lucifer. A nice little ego boost there. "Oh."

"I know, she looks so young," Lucifer says. "It's the plastic surgery."

Chloe snorts. "Kind of like my mom." At Lucifer's questioning look, she adds, "Penelope Decker."

"Penelope Decker!" he says, delighted. "Oh, you have to introduce me."

Chloe shoots him an awkward look. "Uh. We just met."

"What, you're not taken in with me already?" he says.

Chloe's face stays mildly irritated. "Not really."

"You dick, this is my friend," Ella says. "Stop acting so arrogant."

"It's not arrogance if it's backed up," Lucifer says.

"Yeah, but still," Ella says. "Come on, be the guy who let me talk about protractors for way too long."

"Protractors?" Chloe mouths at him, and Lucifer can't help but grin.

"Oh," Ella says in an utterly unconvincing tone. "I think Azrael wants my attention."

Lucifer's fairly certain Azrael's interrogating her new bride about her opinions regarding whatever her latest hyperfixation is, but Ella's already gone.

"Look," Chloe says. "I'm pretty sure Ella's just trying to set me up. You can go, I won't be annoyed."

"What? No, she's clearly trying to set me up," Lucifer says. "Not that I need it."

"Sure," Chloe says. "Although. Hm. Wait a second."

"You've decided you enjoy the pleasure of my company," he says, more to annoy her than to really flirt, he thinks. 

Sure enough, Chloe glares at him again, though one of the corners of her mouth is quirked up. "No. If your mom's trying to set you up, and Ella's trying to set me up, we could just hang out together for the rest of the evening."

"What, give in? That defeats the purpose of avoiding it," Lucifer says.

"Or," Chloe says. "We get to just relax without trying to force a relationship where neither of us are looking for one."

Lucifer has to admit, it does sound appealing. It was his plan anyway, and Chloe's not the worst company here. His mother will ask him all about Chloe later, and Lucifer can delight in making it clear he has no real interest either way. It might be enough to make her back off. It might be enough to make _Ella_ back off.

"Well, I suppose you're not the worst conversationalist," Lucifer says, and Chloe laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes the last half of this chapter is a fic i've already posted. but now it's gonna be a full fic so hopefully that makes up for it!


	2. Chapter 2

Lucifer learns three things about Chloe Decker in quick succession.

1\. She really does seem to be immune to his charms. She's not the first person who's been uninterested in him--Ella, Delilah, Patrick--but this feels different, somehow. More personal, and simultaneously less of an insult than he should probably be taking it as. 

2\. She doesn't seem to care at all about his mother's opinion of her. When she grins over at the two of them, talking about nothing at all but leaning their heads in closer so it looks more intimate than it actually is, Chloe barely spares her a glance and a polite, disinterested smile. Lucifer's decent at reading his mother after a lifetime of dealing with her, but he doesn't know how to take her expression after that. Sharp, curious eyes, a smile he remembers from before his parents' divorce, and a gaze that cuts away every time he turns back to her to check.

3\. She has absolutely _abysmal_ taste in music.

"You're joking," Lucifer says.

"No," Chloe defends herself. "This song is good! It's fun!"

"I'm fairly certain Candy chose this song to see what the DJ would let her get away with," Lucifer says with a roll of his eyes, though there's still a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You don't seriously enjoy NSYNC?"

"I _do_ ," Chloe says. "What, you only listen to death metal?"

"Nothing of the sort," Lucifer says. "I play the piano."

"Ah, should've guessed. Fancy rich kid." The words should be insulting--are, even--but her smile is warm, like he's in on the joke even if he's the butt of it. "Your mom make you take a lot of lessons?" 

"Actually, I played after I left home," Lucifer says. "Left college, too."

Chloe leans in--to keep up appearances, Lucifer tells himself--and asks, "Why'd you start?"

Lucifer normally tells people there was a piano in one of the clubs he'd worked at and had spent so much time bored he might as well. It's not a lie, but it's far from the whole truth, and he opens his mouth to tell her when he says, "I missed music, I suppose."

Chloe frowns. "I don't follow."

"Well," Lucifer says, trying to figure out how to explain it. "When I grew up, before--" He gestures vaguely, hoping to convey the complicated tangle of family drama and as-close-to-disowned-without-causing-a-scandal without having to articulate any of it. "Father was always playing music in his study. My siblings enjoyed it, I think. I know Remy did. You wouldn't catch her singing anywhere _near_ this many people, but she has quite a lovely voice."

"That's nice," Chloe says, and sounds like she means it, not like she's saying it just to avoid the topic any longer. Lucifer's about to change it further, just in case he's misreading things, since he's fairly certain Chloe's one of the more complicated people he's ever met, when she asks, "So you sort of--took something you used to enjoy and made it your own?"

"Yes, actually," Lucifer says, voice quieter than he meant it to be. Chloe grins again. "So. No NSYNC for me."

Chloe laughs, looking away from him and at the people dancing. Lucifer takes the opportunity to study the lines of her face, the way her gaze tracks the dancers, how a smile plays at the corners of her mouth when she catches him looking. Part of him is struck with an easy, uncomplicated hunger then. If she was in any way amenable, he'd drag her into the nearest room with a lock on the door, ask her what she desires, and take her apart. But she's made her lack of interest clear, and besides, he doesn't want to ruin an evening away from his mother's machinations.

Maybe more than an evening, if he's lucky. 

"Do you want to dance?" he asks.

Chloe laughs again. "No, I'm really not a dancer--"

"You've been staring at them all night," Lucifer says. "Unless it's someone particular who's caught your eye?"

Chloe rolls her eyes. "I'm with you tonight, remember?"

Lucifer means to leer at that, but he's sure the smile on his face is too fond by half. "All the more reason to dance. I'm an _excellent_ partner."

The song has changed to something tolerable, and when he gets up and offers her his hand, she takes it with barely any hesitation. When they dance, she's loose and relaxed in his arms, almost as if she's had a few drinks, even though she's been nursing a Shirley Temple all night. 

He only means to dance for a song or two, but it's at least half an hour later when she tugs him back to their table. "Heels," she says with a roll of her eyes. "I still don't even understand why these exist."

"To keep men in the 10th century in stirrups," Lucifer answers promptly, more out of habit than because she really wants to know the answer.

To his surprise, her eyes brighten. "You're a historian?"

"No," Lucifer says with a shake of his head. "I only took a few classes at Oxford before realizing history wasn't for me. Academia in general, really."

This is usually the part where people breeze past the topic, talking about his business or his looks or just leaving entirely. He's pleased and not too surprised when she just nods and says, "Me either. I mean, I barely even got to go to high school, let alone college."

"Really? You strike me as the type of person to remind the teacher about the homework they've forgotten," he teases.

She rolls her eyes. "I was too busy on sets to even do the homework I _had,_ let alone remind the teacher about everyone else's."

"So the only reason you weren't was because you were too busy with a _real_ job?" He's just saying it to rile her up, but he--gets it, he thinks. "My, how mature of you."

Chloe snorts. "Yeah, real mature. I think that's part of why I quit acting. I just needed something _different_."

Lucifer thinks about moving halfway across the world to the City of Angels at the advice of a one-night stand and after a lifetime of frustration with his father's plans, and says, "I understand that."

"You do, huh?" Chloe says. Normally, he'd defend himself, but she's got that shrewd, calculating look in her eyes that shows that maybe she's just trying to see what he'll do.

"I do," he says, rather than explain what having the majority of his siblings ignore him for over a decade felt like. She nods, and takes his hand.

Well. Maybe this night is turning out to be more fruitful than he thought it'd be.

Of course, that's the moment that his beloved pest of a sister runs over. "Lucifer! C'mon, bouquet."

"Isn't that normally for single _women_?" Lucifer grouses, getting up anyway. Ella's bouncing on her feet behind Azrael, as if completely unaware that heels hurt, and Chloe gets up after a second.

"Yeah, but fuck gender norms," Azrael says. Lucifer sees Chloe grin out of the corner of his eye. "If you're single, you're playing."

"Well--"

"I--"

"Even if you two hit it off and get engaged, you're not _yet_ ," Azrael says, always too blunt, and Chloe chokes on her drink. Lucifer fails to hold back a smirk in her general direction. "Ugh, stop, I was joking, you should be together for _awhile_ before any of _that_ , come _on_!"

His sister's always been one of the strongest of his siblings, ranking closer to Amenadiel and Remiel than Uriel and Michael, but it always takes him aback, the sheer force with which she drags him and his not-really-a-date forward.

"Jesus," Chloe mutters.

"Actually not one of my siblings' names, despite the theme of the rest of us," Lucifer says brightly.

Chloe frowns at him. "Wait, your parents _chose_ to name you--"

"Everyone!" Candy says, voice carrying. (That vocal training he'd offered her as an engagement gift paid off, it seems.) "I want to see _actual effort_. If you don't at least _try_ and catch this bouquet, I'll know!" Her smile is sweet and placid and somewhat belies an air of imminent danger. It's one of the things Lucifer respects most about her. That, and her unshakable commitment to confusing the hell out of his mother every single time she sees her. "Ready?"

A chorus of confused yeses rings out, and Chloe furrows her brow like she's going off to war.

"Do you actually want to catch this thing, or does Candy scare you that much?" he mutters in an aside, and Chloe's concentration breaks as she glares at him, and Candy calls, "Lucifer, that means you!"

He rolls his eyes and turns back to the front. The gaudy, eye-catching black-and-pink bouquet soars through the crowd, nowhere near Lucifer and Chloe, and the two watch as the bouquet nearly smacks Charlotte in the face.

"Charlotte!" Lucifer says, delighted.

Chloe frowns. "Wait, that's not your mother?"

"No, her younger sister," Lucifer says. "Don't be fooled by appearances, they're nothing alike. My mother's a shark, whereas Charlotte's more...well, also a shark, but one of those small ones that have symbiotic relationships with fish, not a great white."

"I think we've spent too much time together," Chloe says. "That actually made some sense."

Charlotte looks disgruntled at the flowers in her hands, like they've somehow insulted her personally. It's the same expression she'd had when a younger Amenadiel had told her point-blank that she was family, like despite the good intentions, it was a distraction she couldn't afford. Of course, she's more family than their mother has been in years, but it took her awhile to adjust, to accept that.

It helped that Amenadiel helped her take down the firm that betrayed her, Lucifer thinks.

"Anyway," Chloe says. "Your dad named you Lucifer?"

"Yes, of course," Lucifer says with a frown. "Did you think I'd chosen it myself?"

"I guess," Chloe says. "I don't know! With all the angel names, Lucifer seems like...a pretty dramatic departure from theme."

"Theme," Lucifer says with a snort. "When they had identical twins, Mother says Father couldn't wait to name us after the archangels."

"That seems sort of shitty," Chloe says. "Actually, no, that's just shitty. There's nothing _wrong_ with the name Lucifer, but setting you up like that when the rest of your siblings had angel names? It's--sorry, I shouldn't insult your family."

That base, carnal hunger from earlier hits all at once again, and he has to swallow around a lump in his throat when he says, "It's fine."

Chloe looks at his face and starts to smile, but they once _again_ get interrupted, this time by Ella.

"I told you," Ella says to Chloe. "Toooold you."

"You did," Chloe says indulgently, shrugging when Lucifer raises one brow in question. "Do you need a ride home now?"

"No," Ella says, but she's leaning against Lucifer in such a way that he's supporting most of her body weight. "I'm totally fine. I could down, like, six more shots and be _fine_."

"Six _more_ shots?" Chloe says before bringing a hand up to Ella's face and studying her. "I wish I knew what I was looking for."

"I'm fine, I'm no lightweight," Ella says with a roll of her eyes. "Seeeeeriously. Keep going on your date. I can dance for the rest of the night."

Lucifer, who's quite familiar with a drunk Ella, shakes his head at Chloe over his friend's head. 

"I think I'm gonna take you home," Chloe says. "C'mon."

Lucifer helps Ella's arm around Chloe's shoulder and follows them out, trying to think of a clever way to ask for Chloe's number without pushing too far or making it obvious how badly he wants to see her again. Worse comes to worse, he could always ask Ella to arrange a meeting, but he knows she'd be absolutely unsubtle about it, and he'd rather wait for a random encounter than ruin any chance of ever having one by choice again.

"That's mine," Chloe says, nodding at a practical silver SUV.

"Of course it is," Lucifer says, voice still too fond.

Ella finds her footing the last few feet, collapsing into the backseat and curling up under a My Little Pony blanket there.

"My daughter's," Chloe explains at Lucifer's questioning look, and every thought Lucifer's had about asking her to meet up again after dissolve.

"Oh," he says.

"So," Chloe says. "Hopefully that's enough to get your mom to leave you alone for a bit."

"Hopefully," he says. "I had a good time."

It's awkward, stilted conversation, like they're teenagers in a 90s movie rather than adults, but she smiles at him for saying it anyway. "Me too."

"You know," he says. "If you're up for it, I could really use more excuses to avoid her matchmaking."

Chloe's smile drops a little. "What, you mean--keep telling her we're going on dates, or something?"

"I'd pay, of course," Lucifer says quickly, though he can feel the situation slipping away from him rapidly. "And you could choose where. I simply--"

"Lucifer," she says, her tone kind and firm and absolutely rejection territory. It's an interesting feeling. He's never been _rejected_ before, never pursued anyone that uninterested in him. "We shouldn't."

"Are you seeing someone then?" Lucifer asks, a stab of jealousy as he imagines some other man waiting on the couch when Chloe heads home, smiling at her, a gold band around his finger.

"No," Chloe says. "No, I'm--divorced, not that it matters. It just seems like that could escalate into something really soon, and I don't have the time for anything. I mean, I just got to this precinct after a bit of a scandal at my last one, and my daughter's adjusting to her new school, and my roommate--"

"It's fine, Detective," Lucifer says, consciously putting some distance into his tone, though his resolve wavers when she frowns at him again. "No need to make excuses."

Chloe nods at him before helping Ella get into some semblance of a seatbelt and closing the passenger side door. Ella's snoring is audible even through the closed window. He's not sure why he's lingering.

"I'll leave you to it," Lucifer says.

Chloe takes a breath and doesn't say anything, but when he turns to leave, Chloe grabs him by the front of his jacket and drags him down slightly. He almost stumbles and knocks into her, but catches himself on the car door. They're close, and Lucifer would deny the thrill that goes up his spine until he's on his deathbed.

"I really did have a good time," Chloe says, whispering even though there's no one around them.

Lucifer's not sure what to say, ask if he could make it _better_ while dropping to his knees, admit that he wants this to continue, or just press her against the door and _ruin_ her. Before he can think of something, Chloe goes up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his lips.

It's chaste, more a firm statement of intent than anything else, but Lucifer's hand on the car window tenses up anyway.

"I do have to drive Ella home," Chloe says regretfully. 

Lucifer wants to ask if he can come along. But she'd said _daughter_ and she'd said _roommate_ , and Lucifer forces himself to take a step back. "Of course."

"I'll see you around," Chloe says with a small smile, and he smiles back.

It's only after she drives away, him lingering in the parking lot to watch her go, that he realizes he still didn't ask for her number. He doesn't even remember her license plate.

"Fuck," he says, and heads inside.

* * *

The rest of the night is fine. His mother leaves him alone, Michael's left early, and Azrael and Candy are genuinely sweet. Amenadiel makes faces at him every time they spot each other through the crowd, but that's nothing new. 

"Azrael," Lucifer says. "I think Amenadiel and I will be heading home soon."

"What? He's dancing right now," Azrael says, twisting her head to look at their brother's dancing with a horrified-yet-affectionate look on her face. The proper response to whatever "moves" Amenadiel has, Lucifer's sure.

"Yes, but his offspring's passed out in Dr. Linda's arms," Lucifer says patiently. "Besides, you know our brother crashes."

Azrael frowns. "Yeah. It was so good to see you!" She hugs him, and he pats her on the back before she lets him go. "Saw you were hitting it off with that girl," she says with a sly grin.

"You told me to find a date to get Mother off my back, did you not?"

Azrael frowns. "You know, for such a smart guy, you can be kinda dense."

Lucifer frowns back at her. "Blunt as always."

"Yeah, but you love me," she says. "See you after the honeymoon!"

They're going on some sort of road trip rather than a traditional honeymoon, but after seeing Candy and Azrael's shared excitement over seeing some dinosaur statue, he'd supposed it wasn't the worst idea in the world. "Make sure you bring me something."

"I'm gonna find the tackiest, cheesiest knick-knack possible," Azrael says cheerfully.

"That's _not_ what I'm asking for."

"Shame," Azrael says with a sigh. "I'll have to get you two now."

"No," Candy says. Lucifer's about to remind her why he's her favorite sister-in-law (tied with Amenadiel) when she adds, "Three! One from me, too."

"Two from you," Azrael says with a grin. "To be fair."

Lucifer groans. "I despise you both."

The ride home is quiet, Linda aggressively shushing him every time he opens his mouth, and when he gets back to his penthouse, he's drained enough that he wants to just take a shower and collapse into bed.

And if he thinks of blonde hair and a soft smile and a confusing lack of response to his charms in the shower, no one has to know. It's not like he'll see her for awhile yet, even if he's lucky. 

This, in hindsight, was the first day of his life being a romcom. He should have known back then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm super super sorry for the wait! my only excuse is that i started hyperfixating on the arrowverse and watched roughly 300 episodes of it in december. blame my adhd not me, basically.


	3. Chapter 3

The next two weeks pass by normally for Lucifer. Lux is packed every night, and he's out on the floor, dancing, drinking, occasionally doing some actual business. Mazikeen tells him she's annoyed with how much works she's doing for _his_ business then threatens bodily harm when he tries to take over one of her meetings.

"I know Lux is yours, Maze, that's why both our names are on the contract," he says after the third argument about it that week.

Maze glares at him, cleaning a glass with more force than is strictly necessary. "After I made you get a real contract and not something written in lipstick, you mean?"

"I've already thanked you for saving us from that developer's son, Mazikeen," he says, exasperated. "What are you even asking me?"

She rolls her eyes and doesn't answer. "For you to tell me what's going on with you. You've been weird ever since Azrael's wedding."

"No, I haven't," he says, affronted. 

"'No, I haven't,'" she mocks. "Yes, you absolutely have. Are you still pissed that I broke into your penthouse to drop off your sister's presents? It's not my fault you keep putting off putting a lock on that thing."

"What? I don't care about that," Lucifer says, even if the plastic dinosaur dressed like an astronaut sitting on his coffee table is an abomination against his, or anyone's, sense of style. "Nothing's _wrong_ , Maze, you're imagining things."

"If I thought you weren't lying to yourself first--"

"I don't _lie_ \--"

"You're just the least self-aware person I've ever met, right," Maze says. "Something's up. You haven't brought anyone upstairs in _weeks_."

"Two weeks," Lucifer says. "Hardly cause for alarm. Why, are you jealous?"

Maze mixes a drink for someone approaching the bar after glancing him up and down, ignoring his attempts to order something other than what she's making. "You wish. Want to explain why you've only danced with blondes the past few days, then?"

"No," Lucifer says, too quickly.

Maze grins, smelling blood in the water. "Hey. Take this." She shoves the drink towards the customer and then pushes herself up using the bar, so that she's eye-to-eye with Lucifer. "One more time?"

"I haven't noticed that particular pattern," Lucifer says, because it's not a lie, though, now that he thinks about it, the last non-blonde he danced with was before the wedding. Unless he's forgotten them, which he's _never_ done. Point of pride for him.

"Who?" Maze says, mouth open in unabashed delight. "Last person to catch your eye was _Eve_."

"No need to remind me of _that_ , thank you--"

"She was great, not your fault you're so--" Maze shakes her hand vaguely at him. "Who?"

"No one I know how to contact again," Lucifer says firmly, hoping that'll be the end of it.

"Aren't you _lucky_ you have me for your _best_ friend?" Maze says, voice slipping from saccharine sweet (entirely bullshit) to a sort of dangerous glee (absolutely sincere). It's not that Maze is never nice, of course, but she's never so obvious about it. "C'mon, give me her name, I'll track her down."

"I'm not stalking a potential girlfriend," Lucifer says, not catching the misstep until Maze cackles.

"Okay, cool, then I'll ask Amenadiel," Maze says. "Yo, Patrick, can you take the rest of the night? We're not that busy."

Patrick looks disbelievingly at the crowd, because Maze _definitely_ lies. "No."

Maze rolls her eyes. "Ugh. Fine. I'll call in one of our backups."

"We have backups?" Lucifer asks.

"This is why it's basically _my_ bar," Maze grumbles, texting someone. "Look. I'm gonna go home, and you can text me her name if you don't want to chicken out."

"I don't need your help getting dates," Lucifer says. "Or anyone's. Besides, I can just--"

"If you were going to do whatever you're thinking of, you'd have already done it," Maze says, and Lucifer turns his head, looks at the way the lights shift over the dancing crowd so he doesn't have to answer. "You know I, like, actually care about you, right? I'm not doing this to be an asshole."

He's not risking looking back at her, but he'd bet half his fortune that she's staring at some spot other than him right now. "Not _just_ to be an asshole, at least."

"Fuck you," she says without heat behind the words. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"At our bar, every night," Lucifer says, and Maze laughs behind him. "Does that mean you're staying then?"

"Nah, my roommate's apparently having a night out, so I'm gonna watch horror movies on _her_ TV," Maze says. "I have months of PTO, and I'm kind of tired tonight, anyway."

"I thought you moved out of Linda's long before Amenadiel moved in?"

Maze groans. "I had another roommate after that, Lucifer, do you know what the LA rent market's like? Don't answer that, actually."

"Do you need money?" Lucifer asks, horrified. "You shouldn't have to share your space with _anyone_ , I can't _imagine_ \--"

"Shut up," Maze says. "You can be so _annoying_ sometimes. It's _fine._ "

"Is that a no on the mon--"

"Obviously I'll take money if you're offering it," Maze says. "Do I look like someone who actually believes in capitalism? See you tomorrow, or whatever."

Lucifer waves at her as she leaves. He should go back into the crowd and mingle, coax bachelorette parties and sorority sisters and whoever else is here tonight into trying the special, worth the exorbitant price Maze charges. But he's--tired, all of a sudden, wholly uninterested in it. 

"Patrick," Lucifer says, and his second-best bartender hands him a drink with a wink before he can even request anything. After finishing it--not quite as strong as he'd have liked, but nice--he makes himself stand up, walk through the crowd, at least looking out for someone who _doesn't_ seem to be having a good time. Even if he can't be a businessman right now, he can at least be a decent host. 

There's one man who's far past too-many-drinks, complaining about his ex while they wait for a cab together. There's someone whose heel broke while dancing, and Lucifer has to keep them from punching the woman they think is responsible. There's the girl who's furiously trying to rub off the stamp on her hand, grinning sheepishly when Lucifer catches her.

"You know, no one would have called you on it if you'd done this in the restroom," Lucifer says casually, and the girl groans and puts her head in her hands, like she hadn't even considered that. "Look, are you at least 18?"

"I'm 21," the girl says reflexively, and when Lucifer just blinks at her, unimpressed, she admits, "Okay, look, I'm 19, I just have a baby face. I'm just trying to have fun, dude, can't you help out?"

"I actually enjoy holding onto my liquor license, so I'll have to decline," Lucifer says, and her face blanches as she realizes Lucifer owns the place. "Look, there are plenty of bars that don't actually care about fakes, and more who don't stamp at all. Just try something a bit less..."

"Expensive?"

"Exactly," Lucifer says. "If you're just trying to get drink, go to some dive. It'll be cheaper there."

"Fine," the girl says. "I'll be back, though. This place is fun."

Lucifer preens a little at that, but makes the bouncer escort her out anyway, because Maze _would_ kill him. He takes another drink--something sweet this time, Patrick's spoiling him--ready to get back to making rounds of the place once he's done, but stops when he hears, "You know, I wouldn't have had you pegged as a responsible business owner."

"Chloe?" Lucifer says, turning fast enough that some of the drink spills on the bar. Hopefully the lights are dim enough that she doesn't notice, because sure enough, it's her, in a red dress he's torn between loving and wanting to tear off as soon as possible. "What are you doing here?"

"I have the day off tomorrow, figured I'd enjoy the night," Chloe says with a shrug.

"What about your daughter?" Lucifer asks.

"You remembered," Chloe says with a smile.

"Of course I do, she was the only reason I didn't ask to go home with you that night," Lucifer says. It's two steps past forward, but she kissed him and it's the way he is.

Sure enough, her cheeks flush a pale pink and while she does shake her head, the corner of her mouth quirks up a bit. "You're--one of a kind, Morningstar. She's with her dad tonight."

" _Is_ she?" Lucifer asks, voice practically a purr. "Interesting."

"That wasn't--" Chloe shakes her head. "I wasn't trying to, uh, imply anything? Not that I'm _against,_ uh--well, whatever, just--"

"You're not used to this, are you?" Lucifer asks.

"Not at all, no," Chloe admits with a small grin. "But hey, if you're the owner of this place, you probably...are?" The line trails off into a question, and her smile drops a bit, but Lucifer grins back at her.

"Well," he says with a dramatic, obviously fake sigh. "If you insist, I suppose I could take some time out of my night for you."

She shakes her head again, but she's still smiling back at him, and Lucifer's sure the look on his face is too fond by half. 

Patrick wisely keeps his face as the polite customer-service smile he favors when behind the bar as the two approach, though he raises his eyebrows, seemingly impressed, when Chloe looks down to look at the paper version of their drink menu.

"I'll have a Cosmo," she says.

"A Black Russian for me, Patrick," Lucifer adds, and Patrick gets to mixing the drinks. "My brother loves those, you know."

"Which one? From what I remember of the wedding you have, uh..."

"Many," Lucifer says. "I mean Amenadiel."

Chloe smiles. "Oh, yeah! We talked for just a bit when you were in the bathroom, he was looking for advice on how to get Charlie to stop chewing his own hand."

"Children," Lucifer says, mildly horrified. Chloe frowns down at the menu, not meeting his eyes, and that's when Lucifer remembers, oh, right, single mother. "I'm sure yours is fine."

Chloe opens her mouth to talk but Patrick slides their drinks their way, and she's momentarily distracted. Were he anything like what he was a dozen years ago, he'd have thanked God for Patrick's intervention. Chloe reaches into her clutch, black and perfectly practical, and pulls out a dollar bill.

Lucifer shakes his head, gently pushing her hand down. "Please, let me."

"Let you save yourself from how you put your foot in your mouth just then?" Chloe says. "If you _insist_."

Lucifer's a little taken aback, but it's sort of nice, too, how she's not fawning over him how most people usually do, how she's still here even without the ulterior motives.

Well. _Hopefully not_ entirely _without ulterior motives_ , he thinks, eyes catching on her legs as she slides onto one of the barstools.

"What, you don't want to dance?" he asks, though he's already sitting down. 

"I thought I told you at the wedding, I'm not much of a dancer," Chloe says.

"I remember," Lucifer says. "...that you danced for almost an hour after you said that."

"Okay, it was more like 30 minutes," Chloe says, tucking her hair behind her ears. It's a pretty obvious tell, but Lucifer doesn't want to call her on it, wants to let the conversation back to being light and easy like it was the last time. 

"True," Lucifer says. "Things do change, though. You're actually drinking tonight."

"Figure I'm not headed home for awhile yet," Chloe says with a little shrug. "Not anything I need to be sober for, right?"

Lucifer's bitterly disappointed, just for a second, until he catches the tension of her hand around the glass, the way her eyes keep meeting his and then ducking back down. "I can think of one thing."

* * *

The conversation shifts back to lighter, easier things--Chloe talking about stopping killers, Lucifer cheerfully recounting Azrael and Candy's horror story of a road trip they seem all too pleased by. But Chloe switches back to non-alcoholic drinks, and Patrick gives Lucifer a non-alcoholic drink for what Lucifer swears is the first time. 

"I'm sure I'd have _remembered_ ," Lucifer protests, and Patrick's too busy with the crowd to respond, but he's still grinning. 

"Are you sure you'd have noticed, though?" Chloe says. "I mean, if you weren't expecting something _super_ strong, you might not tell."

"I've owned this place for years now, of course I would," Lucifer says.

"I don't know how I haven't heard of it before," Chloe says. "I mean, I don't go out much--"

"Really? Who could have guessed," Lucifer says.

Chloe glares at him, though she doesn't seem _too_ upset. "But still. Don't you advertise, or something?"

"Don't need to," Lucifer says. "Besides, my partner handles that side of the business." Chloe freezes, and Lucifer quickly corrects. "Business partner, I mean. Not--"

"Good," Chloe interrupts.

Lucifer plans to never admit the way his cheeks warm at that, if he's ever asked. Chloe probably wouldn't, but Maze has a way of finding these things out. "Is it?"

"Yeah," Chloe says. Her eyes flick down to his lips (well, she's still looking up, but down from where she's met his gaze), and Lucifer's all-too-aware of the crowd. "Do you, um--"

"Yes," Lucifer says. "I live just upstairs--"

Chloe looks over the sea of people with a little grimace. "Would you mind coming to my place instead? I'm pretty sure I'd be able to hear them from upstairs, and it's just--not for me. Sorry."

"No need to apologize, it's fine, Patrick--"

"I'll handle it," Patrick calls from across the bar.

Lucifer would have preferred Maze, but there's something to be said about beggars being choosers. "Thank you."

It's not cold outside, being LA and all, so Lucifer's completely unsure of what to do with his hands or anything. It's not a feeling he's used to--hasn't felt like this since his year and a half in college, and even then, English weather had a whole host of things he could do if he was ever unsure--offer his jacket, talk about the weather. He's far beyond such basic flirtation now, obviously, but this...feels different.

He's almost disgusted with himself for the sentimentality of it all. He barely knows this woman.

"I don't usually do this," Chloe says, arms crossed.

"Take someone home?" Lucifer asks.

"Yeah. I haven't since, uh. You know, I don't actually remember?"

"Awhile, then," Lucifer says.

"Yup," Chloe says, popping the _p_. "Although I guess this was technically our second date, not our first."

Dates. Lucifer hasn't done that since Eve, and even then, she preferred to stay in and have the crowd come to them. 

"I don't normally do this, either," he says without really thinking about it. At her disbelieving look, he adds, "Dates."

Her face softens a little, and she says, "Oh." He finds it a little difficult to meet her gaze all of a sudden, but he's saved by the cab arriving. 

They don't say a word the whole ride, but Chloe puts her hand in his and squeezes it.

Once they reach her apartment complex, Lucifer thinks the place looks vaguely familiar, but he's been around for plenty of favors, so when he can't place why, it doesn't matter much. Chloe stops by Apartment 5C and unlocks it, and Lucifer has her crowded against the door before she can finish pushing it open.

Chloe's tugging him down before he's even close enough to kiss her, and it knocks his balance off completely, but it's fine, it's a sort of easy awkwardness rather than anything that might actually ruin this. Her place is what he'd expect, somehow--cozy but not messy, well-lived in--but he doesn't have really any time to get a glimpse before her lips are on his.

It's just as good a kiss as last time, but less urgent, more heated, slow and intense in a way that he's not quite as used to. He blindly pushes the door behind him until he hears a clicking sound. He's not usually a fan of standing during sex, especially not given how he'll certainly have to pick her up to make the angles work and he's not 22 anymore, but he finds himself completely unwilling to pull back long enough to find a couch or a door to a bedroom.

There's some noise, though, and Lucifer takes a breath, asks, "Is that your neighbors?"

"No, my roommate probably just left her TV on, she likes horror movies," Chloe says, and before he lets her tug him back in, something...clicks.

"I don't suppose your roommate is a woman with dark skin? Love of knives?"

Chloe pulls back, leaning against the door, and Lucifer doesn't let himself get distracted by the way her bottom lip is flushed, but it's a near thing. "You know Maze?"

"She helps run Lux," Lucifer says. 

"What are the chances of that?" Chloe wonders out loud. "I mean, LA's a huge city."

"She's going to find this hysterical," Lucifer mutters, already preparing himself for Maze's "gentle" ribbing about this. Chloe grimaces, clearly on a similar train of thought. "But that does sound like her. So--"

Chloe puts herself up on her tiptoes, loops her arms around his neck. It can't be all that comfortable, but she's smiling at him, so he doesn't think he's going to call her on it. Maybe this can still be--nice. Easy. 

Of course, his best friend and, apparently, Chloe's roommate is a bit of an asshole. "I wasn't gonna interrupt, but I heard my name," Maze says, grin audible in her voice, somehow.

Lucifer doesn't slam his head against the wall, which is a remarkable show of restraint. "Mazikeen."

"Lucy," she says sweetly, knowing he won't yell at her for it with Chloe right here. "You know, when we were talking earlier, I didn't expect this!"

"Neither did I," Chloe says. "Weren't you supposed to be working?"

"Maze," Lucifer says warningly. He'd run into Chloe, he doesn't need her meddling anymore.

She glares at him, grin dropping, but doesn't call him on it. "I'll just be...heading out, then."

They have to step out of the way so she can pass them, and Maze's grin back at Lucifer is both obvious and exactly what the situation didn't call for. So much for nice and easy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait i've been going through a ~*~depressive episode~*~! i would like to promise i won't make y'all wait this long again but tbh that depends on many factors outside of my control SO i will only promise that i WILL return to this story even if it's been awhile


End file.
